The incidents in this, and the other ballad of St. George and the Dragon, are chiefly taken from the old story-book of The Seven Champions of Christendome; which, though now the play-thing of children, was once in high repute. Bishop Hall, in his Satires, published in 1597, ranks

"St. George's sorrell, and his cross of blood,"

among the most popular stories of his time; and an ingenious critic thinks that Spencer himself did not disdain to borrow hints from it[ 1], though I much doubt whether this popular romance were written so early as the Faery Queen.

The author of this book of the Seven Champions was one Richard Johnson, who lived in the reigns of Elizabeth and James, as we collect from his other publications, viz. "The nine worthies of London, 1592," 4to.--"The pleasant walks of Moor fields, 1607," 4to.--"A crown garland of Goulden Roses, gathered, &c. 1612," 8vo.--"The life and death of Rob. Cecill, E. of Salisbury, 1612,"4to.--"The Hist. of Tom of Lincoln," 4to. is also by R. J. who likewise reprinted "Don Flores of Greece," 4to.

The Seven Champions, though written in a wild inflated style, contains some strong Gothic painting, which seems, for the most part, copied from the metrical romances of former ages. At least the story of St. George and the fair Sabra is taken almost verbatim from the old poetical legend of "Syr Bevis of Hampton."

This very antique poem was in great fame in Chaucer's time, and so continued till the introduction of printing, when it ran through several editions, two of which are in black-letter, 4to. "imprinted by Wyllyam Copland," without date, containing great variations.

As a specimen of the poetic powers of this very old rhymist, and as a proof how closely the author of the Seven Champions has followed him, take a description of the dragon slain by Sir Bevis.

"--Whan the dragon, that foule is,
Had a syght of Syr Bevis,
He cast up a loude cry,
As it had thondred in the sky;
He turned his bely towarde the son;
It was greater than any tonne:
His scales was bryghter than the glas,
And harder they were than any bras:
Betwene his shulder and his tayle,
Was forty fote withoute fayle.
He waltred out of his denne,
And Bevis pricked his stede then,
And to hym a spere he thraste
That all to shyvers he it braste:
The dragon then gan Bevis assayle,
And smote Syr Bevis with his tayle:
Then downe went horse and man,
And two rybbes of Bevis brused than."

After a long fight, at length, as the dragon was preparing to fly, Sir Bevis

"Hit him under the wynge,
As he was in his flyenge,
Therehe was tender without scale,
And Bevis thought to be his bale.
He smote after, as I you say;
With his good sword Morglaye.
Up to the hiltes Morglay rode
Through hart, lyver, bone, and bloude:
To the ground fell the dragon,
Great joye Syr Bevis begon.
Under the scales al on hyght
He smote off his head forth right,
And put it on a spere:" &c. -- Sign. K. iv.

Sir Bevis's dragon is evidently the parent of that in the Seven Champions, see chap. iii. viz. "The dragon no sooner had a sight of him [St. George] but he gave such a terrible peal, as though it had thundered in the elements . . . Betwixt his shoulders and his tail were fifty feet in distance, his scales glistering as bright as silver, but far more hard than brass; his belly of the colour of gold, but bigger than a tun. Thus weltered he from his den, &c. . . . The champion . . . gave the dragon such a thrust with his spear, that it shivered in a thousand pieces: whereat the furious dragon so fiercely smote him with his venomous tail, that down fell man and horse: in which fall, two of St. George's ribs were so bruised, &c.-- At length . . . St. George smote the dragon under the wing, where it was tender without scale, whereby his good sword Ascalon with an easie passage went to the very hilt through both the dragon's heart, liver, bone, and blood. Then St. George cut off the dragon's head, and pitcht it upon the truncheon of a spear," &c.

The History of the Seven Champions, being written just before the decline of books of chivalry, was never, I believe, translated into any foreign language: but "Le Roman de Beuves of Hantonne" was published at Paris in 1502, 4to. Let. Gothique.

The learned Selden tells us, that about the time of the Norman invasion was Bevis famous with the title of Earl of Southampton, whose residence was at Duncton in Wiltshire; but he observes, that the monkish enlargements of his story have made his very existence doubted. See Notes on Poly-Olbion, Song iii.

This hath also been the case of St. George himself; whose martial history is allowed to be apocryphal. But, to prove that there really existed an orthodox saint of this name (although little or nothing, it seems, is known of his genuine story) is the subject of "An Historical and Critical Inquiry into the Existence and Character of Saint George, &c. By the Rev. J. Milner, F.S.A. 1792, 8vo."

The equestrian figure worn by the Knights of the Garter, has been understood to be an emblem of the Christian warrior, in his spiritual armour, vanquishing the old serpent.

But on this subject the inquisitive reader may consult "A Dissertation on the Original of the Equestrian Figure of the George and of the Garter, Ensigns of the most noble Order of that name. Illustrated with copper-plates. By John Pettingal, A M. Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries. London, 1753," 4to. This learned and curious work the author of the "Historical and Critical Inquiry" would have done well to have seen.

It cannot be denied, but that the following ballad is for the most part modern: for which reason it would have been thrown to the end of the volume, had not its subject procured it a place here.

LISTEN, lords, in bower and hall,
I sing the wonderous birth
Of brave St. George, whose valorous arm
Rid monsters from the earth.

Distressed ladies to relieve
He travell'd many a day;
In honour of the Christian faith,
Which shall endure for aye.

In Coventry sometime did dwell
A knight of worthy fame,
High steward of this noble realme;
Lord Albert was his name.

He had to wife a princely dame,
Whose beauty did excell:
This virtuous lady, being with child,
In sudden sadness fell:

For thirty nights no sooner sleep
Had clos'd her wakeful eyes,
But, lo! a foul and fearful dream
Her fancy would surprize:

She dreamt a dragon fierce and fell
Conceiv'd within her womb;
Whose mortal fangs her body rent
Ere he to life could come.

All woe-begone, and sad was she;
She nourisht constant woe:
Yet strove to hide it from her lord,
Lest he should sorrow know.

In vain she strove; her tender lord,
Who watch'd her slightest look,
Discover'd soon her secret pain,
And soon that pain partook.

And when to him the fearful cause
She, weeping, did impart,
With kindest speech he strove to heal
The anguish of her heart.